


We're choosing the path between the stars. (Though we're strangers 'til now.)

by sulkyselkie



Category: Hunter X Hunter
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, KuroKuratober 2020, Labyrinth AU, M/M, One Shot, Unresolved Romantic Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-29
Updated: 2020-10-29
Packaged: 2021-03-08 19:22:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,175
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27271861
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sulkyselkie/pseuds/sulkyselkie
Summary: Time is running out for Kurapika as he searches the castle. One fateful turn, and he crosses the threshold to a world of fantastical beauty and sorrow. And he falls...
Relationships: Kurapika/Kuroro Lucifer | Chrollo Lucifer
Comments: 4
Kudos: 33





	We're choosing the path between the stars. (Though we're strangers 'til now.)

**Author's Note:**

> My second fic for KuroKuratober 2020! This one falls under both “Masquerade” and “Dance” prompts. This technically takes place before the events of "It's only forever. (It's not long at all.)," (but was written afterward) so if you haven't read that, I'd suggest checking it out!

Kurapika couldn't tell how long he'd been running through the castle. Every door seemed to lead to branching hallways and even more doors, so any hope of making a methodical search of each area quickly became hopeless. Instead, he'd elected to begin trying every door on the left and pray he stumbled upon a clue. Thankfully, he seemed to have found his way into a hallway with only a single door ahead of him. While it could lead to yet more doors, Kurapika was hopeful. Willing energy into his aching legs, he eagerly pushed forward. The door was enormous, and Kurapika eyed it with some measure of skepticism. Could he even open such a door? But he couldn't afford to hesitate; time was running out. "Nothing ventured, nothing gained," he murmured, and reached for the doorknob. It wasn't locked, so it smoothly turned and the youth easily pulled it open.

The air seemed to oddly shimmer and ripple for a moment. Kurapika's eyes stung sharply, and he squeezed them shut, rubbing at them with his sleeve. What he saw when he opened them took his breath away.

He was standing just within the entryway of the most enormous room he'd ever seen while a masquerade ball unfolded around him. The room was swathed in rich draperies and strands of glittering jewels, mirrors covering the exposed walls. Tables of food and drink populated the far corner of the room, while other tables strewn here and there boasted elaborate flower arrangements and sharp-looking candelabra. Music drifted through the air, though Kurapika could see no musicians anywhere within the room.

Earlier, Kurapika had wondered why the castle seemed to be deserted, and here was the answer. Clearly, the Spider-Demon King's courtiers were celebrating--for what he could only guess--and the servants were all tending to them here. Dozens of masked people--no,  _ Spider-Demons _ , he reminded himself--filled the ballroom, though the mirrors gave the impression that hundreds were in attendance. Gray-clad servants with simple domino masks glided silently through the throng, carrying golden trays with slender champagne flutes. 

The masked guests that filled the hall arrested Kurapika's attention. The sheer variety of costumes and masks was astounding, from sumptuous satin ballgowns and brocaded half-masks to clinging leather bodysuits and heavy face paint. Some wore animalistic costumes, while others looked as if they had stepped off an opera stage. There appeared to be no rhyme or reason to the outfits chosen, but it seemed to Kurapika that each courtier was trying to outshine the rest. 

The faint rustle of his clothes as he turned to observe the scene made him glance down at himself. Kurapika's own garb was no less fine than any of the other revelers, but much more simple in its ornamentation. Of a rich sapphire hue, it seemed to be neither dress nor robe, nor tunic nor cape, but an amalgamation of all. He'd never seen a garment of its like before, with multiple flowing layers that drifted about him as though they were alive. He could see that under these clothes, he was wearing a silken, dove-colored bodysuit; close-fitting yet breathable and surprisingly elastic. He could sense no mask upon his face.

As he stepped forward, Kurapika noticed his reflection in a nearby looking-glass propped at an odd angle. He saw--rather than felt--jewels glinting upon his ears and neck. Cautiously reaching up, he carefully ran his fingers over their brilliant facets. Teardrop-shaped rubies dangled from his earlobes, swinging on delicate silver chains. More rubies encircled his throat on a finely wrought band of silver. The scarlet stones seemed to shimmer with an unearthly light, as though they were burning.

Kurapika felt a little light-headed. It had been quite some time since he had anything to eat or drink, and his fatigue was beginning to exacerbate the effects. There was so much food: platters heaped with little cakes, fruit arranged in massive pyramids, and savory smells wafting from covered dishes. Surely no one would begrudge a fellow guest a morsel or two. Mind set, Kurapika stepped decisively forward, heading in the direction of the nearest table. There was an arrangement of luscious summer peaches that had caught his eye, the sweet aroma drifting through the room.

But a few steps in, a strange wave of dizziness passed over Kurapika. He squeezed his eyes shut, then blinked hard several times. What had he just been doing? There was something he had to do, but its exact nature was slipping away from him. Someone...he had to find someone, didn't he? Yes, that's right. He was here at the ball to find someone. He couldn't remember exactly who, but Kurapika was certain he'd remember once he saw them. So he began to meander around, casting his eyes at this guest and that, and racked his brain to remember exactly what they looked like.

A golden-eyed jester wandered through the crowd, juggling orbs that shifted from rainbow-hued to silver and back again. Kurapika stared, fascinated. The jester quickly caught Kurapika's eyes, his voluptuous mouth curving into a cruel smirk. He stuck out his tongue and continued on, ignoring the boy. 

Slightly disconcerted, Kurapika took a few steps back towards the wall. Immediately, a pair of dancers waltzed into the space he'd vacated: a muscular blond man clad in a fairytale prince's garb twirling a statuesque blond woman whose scanty plum gown exposed nearly all of her voluptuous figure. Kurapika gaped for a moment, wondering how she didn't spill from her dress, so extreme was its cut. After half a measure, the pair waltzed on, and Kurapika decided to begin meandering again. 

This was a world of luxury and beauty far removed from Kurapika's everyday life. Eyes wide, he craned his head this way and that, bathing in the unearthly splendor before him. There was something strangely compelling yet offsetting about the courtiers filling the ballroom. It was like a scene from a storybook: a masked ball filled with eerily beautiful fae dancing and feasting away their idle hours. Everyone seemed to be enjoying themselves enormously. One pair of male guests--one tall and blond with an eye mask, the other short and brunet with a mouth mask--were noisily toasting each other, tossing their empty glasses to the side, where they were expertly caught each time by a servant seemingly designated for the task.

A small crowd had gathered around a dancer slowly contorting himself into knots while elegantly swaying to the melody. Wait, was he reaching through a hole in his torso? Startled, Kurapika tried to push forward and see, but the crowd shifted and hid the man from sight. Eyes wide, the blond hopped this way and that, trying to see over the people blocking his view.

Faint snickering drew his attention to a pair of extremely tall, heavily muscled men in fairly plain suits standing by the drink table. Kurapika quickly realized they were staring at him, though only one seemed to be laughing. They were joined by a shorter, thinner man with an elaborate topknot and clad in a flowing robe who bore a handful of drinks. The tallest one leered at Kurapika, even as he was handed his drink, and waggled his eyebrows with an obscene grin displaying his sharp white teeth. Kurapika felt sickened and turned in the opposite direction.

He was quickly caught up in the crowd, turned around and pushed. Kurapika tripped, stumbling into someone's back nearby. As he struggled to right himself, the ballgown-clad dancer turned around to glare at him: a girl with a beautiful face and cold, cold eyes. She stared witheringly at Kurapika as the wide-eyed brunette at her side, clad in a tight velvet jumpsuit studded with diamonds, goggled at him with her mouth open. Kurapika flushed and muttered an apology, hastily turning to the side and trying to make it to the side of the room.

Hovering next to a table covered in crimson spider lilies, he spotted the first teenager he'd seen so far in either the labyrinth or the castle. Petite and swathed in loose robes, the boy's long moonlight-bright hair framed his pale face. He watched the dancers go by with curious, round eyes. Perhaps this boy would be friendlier than the other guests? Kurapika began heading in his direction. By chance, Kurapika caught the boy's eye; he seemed to grow paler if it was even possible. A pair of dancers passed in front of the blond for a split second, and when they left, the silver-haired boy had vanished.

Kurapika stared at the empty spot, mind blank. What was happening here? Nervous exhaustion slowly began to weigh him down. He seemed to exist in a fever dream. This was a constant assault on Kurapika's senses. The room was simultaneously filled with lively chatter and silent as a grave. He could smell a strange incense yet smell nothing. The room was simultaneously stifling and chilly, the candlelight reflected in the mirrors and gemstones and golden platters dazzled Kurapika's eyes. And the stares...it felt like every pair of eyes in the room was watching him, judging him...

Just as he was becoming overstimulated and on the verge of swooning, the crowd momentarily shifted to reveal an unexpected figure. The Spider-Demon King stood at the far edge of the room, silent and watchful. Their eyes met across the dance floor, locked together despite the swirling mass of revellers between them.

Kurapika's fatigue melted away like snow under the sun. How was he suddenly so refreshed? Mind clear, eyes bright, limbs strong. He felt better than he had in hours. Drawing in a breath of the perfumed air, he closed his eyes. As he slowly exhaled, he could feel a measure of calm he hadn't felt before. Opening his eyes, he was drawn once more to the figure across the room.

The Spider-Demon King seemed to enjoy dressing dramatically in all black, but Kurapika had to admit that it suited him. His sable suit was well-tailored, emphasizing the sculpted muscle beneath. Overtop was a coat with a dramatic, flowing silhouette and black gauzy trim that, at the faintest movement, writhed in the air like smoke. On any other man, it would have looked foolish. The King, however, looked ethereal and powerful. His distinctly masculine charm intoxicated Kurapika.

The blond youth couldn't help but notice the glint of a gold medallion within the folds of the King's open shirt. As he stared, a ruffle fell to the side and exposed the medallion fully, revealing a twelve-legged spider etched upon its surface. Kurapika recalled seeing the design elsewhere throughout the labyrinth and the castle. Perhaps the Spider-Demons' emblem?

He dragged his gaze up reluctantly from the King's firm chest and again found his eyes locked with the brunet’s. A knowing smirk tugged at the older man’s lips before he stepped forward, the dancers scattering before him like leaves in the wind. In the space of a few heartbeats that felt like eternity, he crossed the ballroom floor, eyes never turning away from Kurapika's own.

They now stood face to face, closer than they had been so far. The strange smell of the King's cologne, like woodsmoke and shadows, encircled the blond. For a moment Kurapika forgot how to breathe.

"Do you like my gifts?" The Spider-Demon King murmured. "I knew they'd look exquisite upon you. They match the fire burning in your eyes. But they can't hope to equal your glow." 

Were his lips actually moving? Kurapika could have sworn he was only smiling the whole time. But he'd definitely heard the King speak. The blond was vaguely aware of something he wanted to say in reply, but he simply couldn't recall what it was. The words floated away as he tried to remember. Instead, he smiled and offered a simple "Thank you," in return for the compliment and the gifts.

Was that really what he meant to say? He didn't know. But he had to admit that he was gratified at what he'd received.

The Spider-Demon King offered him a pleased smile in return. He slowly raised his arm, offering Kurapika his outstretched hand.

Kurapika's hand floated up from his side, as if it had a life of its own, and slid gently onto the older man's palm. The long, thin fingers wrapped reverently around his own. The Spider-Demon King inclined his head and raised Kurapika's hand to his lips, brushing a feather-light kiss over his knuckles.

The blond youth shivered. Nobody had ever touched him like this before.  _ If only it wasn't his hand that the King kissed _ , a small voice in the corner of his mind whispered.

"Are you cold?" The Spider-Demon King queried in a soft, low voice. "We'll have to fix that." He placed a hand on Kurapika's waist and drew him in closer. The blond could feel the warmth radiating from the King. The smoky smell was stronger close up, but not unpleasant.

For a moment, neither said anything. Kurapika could feel himself trembling faintly. Anticipation? Apprehension? He was standing on the cusp of an indescribable  _ something _ , all caused by the man before him.

Some distant, small part of his mind--the same part that had wished for a different kind of kiss from the King--marveled that this was like the fairytale balls of his storybooks. A story of drama, adventure, and romance unfolding before him, a handsome young king lavishing him with jewels and attention. What would follow in the tales was a romantic moonlit dance preceding a happily ever after.

A warm, amused smile spread across the Spider-Demon King's full lips. "Would you do me the honor?"

_ Oh. _

Kurapika found himself nodding eagerly. "I would be delighted."

He easily ignored the fact that he didn't know how to dance. The Spider-Demon King readjusted his grip on Kurapika, clasping his other hand. Kurapika mirrored his grip, laying a small hand on the smoky trim of the King's coat collar. It felt as fine and soft as cobwebs under his fingers.

The stares he had felt digging into his back vanished, and the world fell away until there were only the two of them left. His feet knew the steps, and he found himself falling into the steady, measured rhythm that the Spider-Demon King set. The music changed to something heartrending and slow, tender with a melancholy wistfulness.

Kurapika wasn't looking at the ballroom or the guests anymore. Only at the King. For hours, his eyes had been drawn to none but the King. Eyes as dark as the space between the stars, warm and hypnotizing. Kurapika had never seen eyes like his before. Well, outside of his dreams. It was like he was floating within the King's arms. Were his feet even touching the floor? He'd have to look away to check, and he didn't want to do that. Not just yet, not when his eyes could trace the slope of his nose or follow the curve of his cheeks.

"Your heart is beating so fast, Kurapika," the Spider-Demon King noted. Was that amusement or pleasure coloring his voice?

"This is all new," he admitted breathlessly, "it's like a dream."

The corners of the Spider-Demon King's eyes crinkled faintly. "Is it?"

From this short distance, Kurapika could note things he hadn't before. How the King's onyx eyes were two shades darker than his hair, lids and creases dusted with pearl and silver. A faint, almost imperceptible beauty mark near his nose. Turquoise earrings dangled from his lobes, almost covered by the trim of his coat. 

Those dark eyes were drinking him in, in return. "I've never seen such stunning eyes, Kurapika. Clear and brilliant, like pale jewels."

If Kurapika's heart had been beating fast earlier, it was surely ready to leap from his chest now. "Yours...are beautiful, too," Kurapika blurted. He was normally so well-spoken and logical, but words of this sort didn't come naturally to him. He couldn't remember the last time he'd tried to compliment someone.

For a second, the Spider-Demon King looked surprised, but the expression was quickly replaced with a soft-edged smile of satisfaction. "Well, I must thank you. I suppose we are both unused to receiving compliments of the sort." Kurapika could feel himself blush, heart swelling with pride and pleasure.

They danced on, the music drifting from somewhere unknown, layers of their clothes floating around them like mist. Warmth filled Kurapika, spreading through his veins. This was something beautiful, something precious.

"You feel this, too," the Spider-Demon King murmured.

Lips parted, eyes shining, Kurapika nodded.

A look of joyous pride filled the Spider-Demon King's onyx eyes. "This is the path you chose. You’ve run so long, and so far. After looking so hard, you finally found me."

_ No. _

This wasn't the person he was looking for.

Something was off. Where was he?  _ When _ ...was this?

Summoning every scrap of courage he had left, Kurapika tore his eyes away from the King, landing by chance on an ornate grandfather clock half-hidden among the draperies. As if on cue, the clock's chimes began to toll. Kurapika cried out upon realizing what number the hands pointed to, as his stomach gave a sudden, sick jolt. Time was running out. Only two hours were left out of the handful he'd had upon entering the castle. Ice ran through his veins.

He couldn't explain why, but somehow the looking-glass he'd first gazed into upon entering the ballroom called to him. He wrenched himself from the King's arms, dashing over to the ballroom’s entrance. Dimly, he could hear the King calling his name, but Kurapika was solely focused on forcing his legs to move as quickly as possible. The crowd closed in, hemming him on every side, but Kurapika pushed and struggled his way through.

Closer, and closer, until there he was in front of the looking-glass, staring at his reflection. No robe of sapphire, no fiery jewels, just a thin, short young blond man in simple clothes. And somehow, some way, something clicked. Without even looking, Kurapika grabbed something from the table near his elbow, and smashed it into the mirror.

The edges of this beautiful world fractured, falling apart around him.

A voice called. A clock ticked. A melody died. The clothes and jewels melted, fizzing into a cloud that enveloped him, shrouding the world in white.

As the mist cleared away, Kurapika found himself standing in the center of a ruined ballroom. Chunks of rubble and other debris littered the floor. Light filtered in overhead through an ornate stained glass window, casting dancing prisms of color on a crumbling, dry fountain to Kurapika's left. Dusty cobwebs clung to damaged pillars and balconies. It looked as though a bomb had gone off and nothing had been touched since. But it was clearly once grand, which made the destruction all the more poignant.

_ Was I here in this empty room the entire time? Was this all...a dream? Or some kind of hallucination? _

The lingering warmth on Kurapika's waist and hand said otherwise.

**Author's Note:**

> This was surprisingly hard to translate into fic! The ballroom scene of the movie is so crucial: not a single word is spoken, but volumes are said just from their eyes alone. But that wouldn't be quite as much fun, so I tried to squeeze in some flirty banter. This kept getting longer as I wrote it, since I wanted to add more context and add to the strangeness Kurapika's experiencing. 
> 
> I couldn't resist giving the Phantom Troupe cameos in this; can you guess who's who? (The ruined ballroom is the Phantom Troupe's base from the Yorknew Arc!)
> 
> I like to think that the coat functions the way a selkie's sealskin does and helps transform the wearer into their Spider-Demon form. Maybe those are real cobwebs on the coat? WHO KNOWS.


End file.
